Reg Dovah – Lady Dragon
by Alastriona Rose
Summary: Luna, the noble swordmaiden comes to Skyrim's ice-capped land under mysterious circumstances to overthrow her sworn enemy, the Empire. However, the events often take unexpected turns, while her dark past also makes a perpetual shadow on both her present and the ones', who grow close to her. (M - adult content)
1. Unbound (part I)

**A/N : Be welcome! My name is Alastriona Rose, and this is my very first fanfiction I've written, and decided to translate to English. Yeah, I'm not a native English speaker, so perhaps I've made some mistakes, but I've tried my best. If you notice any of them, please, tell me, and I correct it immediately!**

 **Hope, you'll enjoy it!**

 **DISCLAIMER:** ** The Elder Scrolls V.: Skyrim and its entire world (including places, characters, etc.) belongs to Bethesda Softworks. However, Luna Wind-Feet is my character. But I don't own anything else.**

* * *

 _ **I.**_

 _ **Unbound**_

 _ **(part I.)**_

The pine forest at the foot of the Jerall Mountains has never been as quiet as on the seventeenth day of Last Seed, early at dawn. It wasn't that kind of pleasant and peaceful silence, in which anyone would take one strech and a good nap. The air was heavy before the storm, in which even the wind couldn't roar, and the birds have forgotten the song. We are in the two hundred and first year of the Fourth Era.

A filthy, torn cloaked girl sped off among the silent trees. Bare feet barely touched the ground, only her rapid, troubled breathing broked the paralyzing silence of the forest. The hot tears were furiously biting her face, but as they ran down to her chin, have already frozen. Her strength was running out, and her chest ached of the cold air.

 _I have to stop… I must._

She flunged herself down next to a bole, and looked around carefully to make sure; they lost her. It was hard to find her here, the mighty pines shed out of themselves a strong smell of resin, so all of the other opressed, and the evergreen foliage conjured almost nighttime darkness around themselves. The silence was pervasive, so anyone could hear up to a mile away, if someone was approaching.

She sighed quietly, and then removed the patched, rough-woven fabric hood from her head. Ash blond hair was worn in a braided bun on her head, as often worn by the upscale ladies, a few shorter lacks of hair slipped out during the run, they sticked now to her sweaty face. She pulled them out of her mahogany-colored eyes, then grabbed the fallen leaves. Raised the picky thorns to her snub nose, and sniffed deeply. Then throwed them to her frozen toes, and tried to bury them as much as possible against the cold. She knew, if she stays longer outside, her legs won't be useful anymore.

 _But where could I go?_

She lingered a bit at the foot of the large pine, before she continued her destination. It was too risky to stay in one place for long time. So after, she got up and continued in that hope she'll find a source, or a river in the nearby, where she can wash her face, and relieve on her excruciating thirst. She couldn't remember the last time she was drinking water. In the last couple of days she wandered among the mighty Jeralls, and ate just snow to not dry out. The long, rough cloak was wrapped protectively around her, but didn't help much; her entire body was still shaking.

The pine needle-leaves crackled softly under her feet. She hoped, this won't cause her downfall. Although, she didn't really know, why is she fleeing. There weren't any purposes of her life. Not anymore. Maybe, it was just a survival instinct that worked in her fiercely in these cold days. Unconsciously.

 _He said I have to run… I have to run, until I fall down to the ground. And after that, I must continue as well._

Slowly, but she forced her ice block legs to take moves again, and rise more rapidly one after another. That was the only purpose. To run. Run, run, and run, until she fall. Flapping wildly the hanging thorny branches out of the way, when one of the other scratched her hand, and the dripping blood had left its mark in the leaf rug…

Water flowing was suddenly heard not far away in the endless wilderness. The girl pulled away a last branch out of the way, and then she found herself in a small field, where the darkness could't reach. A large, mossy rock stood in the center, crystalline trickled down from its crevice, and gathered in a small pond.

 _Thanks to the gods… Perhaps they don't want me dead._

She hurried to the pond, rested her tired body in a large stone, bent over the water surface, and then dripped her hand in, and drank. She eagerly drank, and didn't care that her throat ached of the cold. She has forgotten, what it feels like. Almost intoxicating. Every inch of her body was grateful.

Once she satiated, washed her sticky face. Somewhat it was also refreshing, but it only lasted, until she saw her face reflecting in the mirror of the pond. The childlike countenance was pale, skinned and tortured, her full lips turned into white of the cold, and the huge, almond-shaped eyes was hiding grief and sadness in deep. They filled with tears again, and the girl strucked into the water with one hand.

A roe deer came out of the woods, with its eyes fixed on the crying girl, who tried to reciprocate the gaze, after she noticed it. She grabbed into the thorn rug at her feet, and then opened her palm, while she was turning to the animal.

It didn't bugde, so she tried to smile as much as she could, and beckoned with her head; come on, it has nothing to fear. It seemed she impressed it; the deer started to walk slowly, stopped in front of the girl, and then began to eat from the palm of her hand.

 _I wish I could be like it…_

From this moment, everything happened so quickly. A bevy of birds flew up from the evergreen foliage, and she supposed to hear dogs barking in the deep of the woods.

– The dog has found something! It's blood! What do you think, did she die? No, she must be here somewhere! Search!

The face of the young wanderer became whiter, then the covering snow on the pikes of the Jerall Mountains. Her terrified eyes looked straight into the deer's.

 _I beg you! Help!_

There was no time for the answer, in that moment she jumped up to the animal's back, and it began to rush with her quickly, as the wind.

– There she is! Take her! – she heard behind them.

 _The deer is faster, than the horse._

At least, the girl told herself this to calm down, while she was clunging to the neck of her „steed", and whispering the direction in its ear.

– Non-scape, you miserable rebel!

Then the girl realized they weren't alone. A team of soldiers dressed up in blue color seen trough the trees, as they were escaping. She couldn't saw more, the deer jumped them up high above, and then kept running. The girl looked back. A red flagged army chased the fleeing gang.

 _It's the color of the Empire._

She certainly knew it, but these troops weren't after her. Until now.

 _Maybe they were just looking for those blue soldiers. Perhaps they wont't even care about me. What did they say? „Rebel"?_

She gazed forward again, after she felt quite a distance between herself and them, but then the deer suddenly got taken by an arrow. It yelled in pain, and prone, and the girl crashed into a rock. A green glass, double-edged dagger slid off her cloak. The weapon's hilt was made of gold, it was sparkling in the light.

The elf soldier picked up the dagger from the ground, and examined it, while he was rolling it between his fingers.

– Hmm. How upscale… – he said sarcastically, then drew his sword, and hit the girl at the temple of her head with the hilt, causing her instantly lost consciousness.

* * *

 **A/N:** **If you liked it, please, leave a review, and then I'll bring the next part of the chapter as soon as I can!**


	2. Unbound (part II)

**A/N: Hey guys, thank you for following this, now here is the next part!**

 **DISCLAIMER:** ** The Elder Scrolls V.: Skyrim and its entire world (including places, characters, etc.) belongs to Bethesda Softworks. However, Luna Wind-Feet is my character. But I don't own anything else.**

* * *

 _ **I.**_

 _ **Unbound**_

 _ **(part II.)**_

The horse-drawn carriage convulsed wildly on the bumpy road. There wasn't that could be heard, but the hoofbeats and the chain rattling.

 _Oh, gods, what happened?_

The young wanderer regained consciousness, while she was having an excruciating headache. Her swollen eyes still haven't been able to open, so she just tried to search the source of the pain with her hand, unsuccessfully. Something tightly held her wrists. The girl groaned up painfully.

– Hey, you! You're finally awake – she heard a deep, worrying male voice. She shook her head in embarrassment. The eyelids of her were heavy, but they opened up narrowly. The sight was obscure, the figures and the shapes blurred around the girl. It took some minutes, before the picture became clear, and she could figure out, where she was, and who accosted her.

She found herself on a cart full of prisoners. Old, loose and dirty shirt she was wearing, which was patched by the trickling blood of her pretty head. The pants was not in better condition either; the left side was torn up long, and it was almost nothing, but a bunch of shreds. Her feet stayed bare, as they were, in the icy air, she felt them less and less part of her body.

In front of her, set an unshaven nord man, who might was in his early-thirties, and was starring at the girl with striking blue eyes. Light blond hair brushed his soulders, which was decorated with a thin braid on one side. A dark blue cloth wrapped around the broad shoulders and the quilted armor. He fixed these by leather belts around his waist. Under the armor he wore a heavy chain shirt for better protection. Its fingers strained on the large biceps. His hands were also bound.

The mysterious morning mist obscured the streching, snow-capped mountains in the blue distance. The cart were passing the crossing road of the evergreen forest, where the giant trees tickled the clouds above them. The breath, like smoke, gently flew up of each spoken and unspoken words. A red-armored Imperial drived the pulling horses, and another followed them behind.

– You were trying to cross the border, right? – continued the blonde nord. – Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us. And that thief over there!

He gazed sharply on the seat beside him, where set a slimer, short brown-haired man, who wore similar rags, just like the girl. His dirty face was terrified and furious at the same time.

– Damn you, Stormcloaks! – he spat out the words. – Skyrim was fine until you came along. Empire was nince and lazy. If they hadn't been looking for you, I could've stolen that horse, and been halfway to Hammerfell – boiled in anger, and then he looked at her. – You there… You and me, we shouldn't be here. It's these Stormcloaks the Empire wants.

– We're all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief – the blond man sighed, and leaned back. The horse-whipping soldier then snapped:

– Shut up back there!

They became silent. The nord soldier looked ahead, and began to pay attention to the way which they moved on, and the dirty, stinking thief stared at his bounds. The girl didn't want to speak to them. In fact, didn't want to speak to anyone anymore. Nothing mattered already, destiny catches up with her soon, she was sure about it. So why would she waste any silly words? She lost everything she loved, and they will never return.

– What's wrong with him, huh? – the skinny man broke the silence again, and at that moment, the girl realized the was another one on the cart, who set right beside her. The burly, nord man was the greatest and the oldest among them. He could be in his late-fourties. Honey-blond hair hang over his shoulders with some braids on both side. A noble, grey fur-trimmed cloak was he wearing with boots made of fine clothes with decorative steel sheets. His huge hands were bound, of course, but a gag covered his mouth, unlike the other prisoner's. The mere appearance of this man was intimidating and and respect-demanding. Some kind of special aura hovered him around.

He stared into space so far with expressionless face and glassy look, until he heard the others were talking about him. Then he came alive and sharply looked around. For a moment, his blue-green eyes darkened, when they met the girl's. His face ran into deep wrinkles.

– Watch your tongue! – snorted the blond nord. – You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak! The true High King!

 _I wonder, how he could be the „true" king, while he is arrested. However, he's captured by the Empire, so he might be so_ – thought the young girl.

– Ulfric? The jarl of Windhelm? You're the leader of the rebellion. Buti f they captured you… Oh, gods, where they taking us? – The voice of the thief rose to desperation.

– I don't know, where we're going – admitted the blond –, but Sovngarde awaits.

– No, this can't be happening! This isn't happening!

The gravels crackled cruelly under the heavy wheels of the carriage, as the were approaching the end.

 _At least, this is going to be the last trial in this piteous world. Although, I will never go to Sovngarde… Not like these… Stormcloak rebels… The Empire couldn't be merciful to them, either. Already we definietly have something in common. And now, we die as brothers and sisters in binds. But at least, their blood will be shed in their own homeland, and they'll drink sweet mead on the eternal ice of Sovngarde from tankards and horns that never empty out._

 _And though, after my parents, I should call this harsh, frosty region as my country, where I've never been before, but I guess my home was there, where I was raised. But it'll never be again…_

– Hey! – said the blond man. – What village are you from, horse thief?

– Why do you care? – spat the words the other.

– A Nord's last thoughts should be of home.

After this, the thief's dirty face changed suddenly. He lowered his eyes, and began to stutter.

– Rorikstead… I'm… I'm from Rorikstead.

The carts of the prisoners reached a large, wooden gate of a small town, that opened in front of them. Inside from the terraces of thatched huts the citizens eyed on all of prisoners on their death row. There were people, who rubbed their hands in excitement, and there were, who looked with terrified, and painful face, as they saw the bound convicts. One thing was certain; everyone left the house.

– General Tullius, sir! – the girl heard a man's voice from the distance. – The headsman is waiting!

– Good. Let's get this over with. – Came the reply in impatient, scratchy voice.

– Shor, Mara, Dibella, Kynareth, Akatosh! Divines, please, help me! – stuttered the slim horse thief in despair, and clasped his shaking fingers.

– Look at him! – said the blonde rebel, his voice filled with contempt. – General Tullius, the Military Governor. And it looks like the Thalmor are with him. Damn elves! I bet they had something to do with this.

The girl looked at them. General Tullius was a gray-haired, brown-skinned, surly looking man, who was wearing a crimson, and bronze-gold armor shirt. Its whole chest was full of imperial emblems and other decorative motifs.

 _As the uniforms of the Penitus Oculatus, except the golden hue and the lots of flourish…_

Oh, yes. She knew well the Penitus Oculatus. The guardians of the Empire, the law enforcers and the bodyguards of the Emperor.

 _Huhh…_

Tullius seemed to be a dwarf beside the golden-eyed, high elf woman, who towered above him. Her ash blond hair hang over straightly her shoulders, and she wore the tipical purple Thalmor uniform with matching gloves and boots. Around her, the ornate, gold-armored soldiers marched up and down, they were just like the one, who captured the girl int he forest. She swallowed.

 _The Thalmor…_

Her stomach churned with hatred.

– This is Helgen – continued softly his monologue the muscular nord prisoner, while he was looking around with sad, nostalgic eyes. – I used to be sweet on a girl from here… Wonder, if Vilod is still making that mead with juniper berries mixed in. – He licked his lips, as if he still feel the taste of it. – Funny, when I was a boy, imperial walls and towers used to make me feel so safe.

 _For me too…_ – responded the girl silently. – _We both made a mistake, when we trusted them. But it's too late already._

– Who are they, daddy? Where are they going? – The prisoners heard a curious child's voice behind them.

– You need to go inside, little cub – said his father.

– Why? I want to watch the soldiers.

– Inside the house! Now!

– Yes, papa…

– Get these prisoners out of the carts! Move it! – commanded a strong, female voice. The imperial soldiers became more and more and marched up and down around the carriages, when the arrived to a huge square, in front of a great stone keep.

– Why are we stopping? – asked the thief scarred.

– Why do you think? End of the line – replied the blond rebel softly.

The cart halted cruelly under them, and the driver solder plopped down of his seat.

– Let's go. – The nord man looked straight into the mahogany eyes of the girl. – Shouldn't keep the gods waiting for us.

They all left their seats, and started to step down of the carriage one after another.

 _We're almost there…_

– No! Wait! We're not rebels! – protested violently the dirty horse thief.

– Face your death with some courage, thief! – suggested the blonde without emotions.

– You've got to tell them! We weren't with you! This is a mistake!

– Step towards the block, when we call your name! One at a time! – ordered a redguard woman, who was wearing a steel helmet and an imperial heavy armor. Next to her, there was a higher, brown-haired nord dressed up in red leather armor. He was holding a piece of paper, and a quill in his hands.

– Empire loves their damn lists – muttered the blond rebel, when he jumped off the cart, as last one, straight into the young girl, who really felt at this moment, that she came to the land of the giants, as a little dwarf. The nords around towered over her, she almost lost between them. The girl became really frightened. Although, her parents were also great next to her, but these nords have grown over them, as well. Especially the noble rebel-leader with his robust physique.

– Ulfric Stormcloak. Jarl of Windhelm – called the imperial soldier, and drew a line in his list. The prisoner, who wore upscale fur on his wide shoulders, and had been standing direclty in front of the girl, now straightened up, and walked right next to the scaffold.

 _How proud, even in death…_

– It has been an honor, jarl Ulfric! – nodded the blonde deeply.

– Ralof of Riverwood – continued the imperial man, and drew out another name of the death list. The blond rebel stepped aside from the girl, and went after Ulfric.

– Lokir of Rorikstead.

The thief quickly rose his head, and his entire body started to shake.

– No! I'm not a rebel! You can't do this! – he exclaimed, and then suddenly fled. He ran as fast as his legs could move.

– Halt! – shouted the redguard commander, but Lokir ignored her.

– You're not going to kill me! – they heard from the distance.

– Archers!

Hearing the instruction, some of the soldiers notched their bows, and shot the escaping thief. He fell to the ground while he was roaring, with three arrows in his back, and then didn't move anymore. It all happened in a few moments.

– Anyone else feel like running? – The captain turned back. The girl pursed her wounded lips. Now she was the only one, who was waiting next to the cart, and standing against two loyal servants of the Empire. She was persistently looking at the ground with her swollen eyes.

 _By the Gods, say my damn name, and let's get this over!_

The eyes of the redguard were calm, but firm. She looked at her with the same hatred, like a the others, waiting for her name, but the nord man's eyes widened, when he saw the last prisoner.

 _Heavens_ – he thought. – _Who is this girl, and why does she seem so familiar?_

– Wait! You there! – he instructed. – Step forward!

She swallowed, and approached the two soldiers with beautiful, and fine steps.

 _Do I deserve even some torturing? Was it not enough already?_

She stopped directly in front of them, and raised her bloody face.

– Who are you? – he asked. The prisoner was shocked.

 _He wants me to believe that he has no idea who I am? Why does he play?_

She waited, but the silence was awkward. No one spoke a word, only the song of birds and the whistling of the icy wind could be heared coming from the surrounding mountains.

 _Is it possible, that he really doesn't know? What should I do now? I could tell my real name, but then I'll be surely beheaded. Or worse. But if I don't say it, will they release me? What could I do, then? Where could I go? Would it make sense to stay alive? Are there any place for me on Nirn?_

– Luna… – she stammered, and although, her voice was weak and hoarse – because in many days there weren't any sensible words, that left her lips –, still soft and melodious. – Luna Wind-Feet.

 _No, I apparently mistook her with someone_ – sighed deeply the imperial, and then he continued in a loud voice.

– Not many wood elves would choose to come alone to Skyrim. Captain! What should we do? She's not on the list. – The man looked at the commander, who apparently had no effect on this.

– Forget the list! She goes to the block.

The eyes of the soldier misted, and the sweat began to flow down in rivers from his sparkling forehead. He felt uncomfortable, apparently.

– By your orders, Captain! – nodded, then turned back to the young prisoner. – I'm sorry. We'll make sure your remains will get back to Valenwood. Follow the Captain, prisoner!

 _Oh, how generous! And what a pity, that none of my parts touched the soil of Valenwood anyway. And they don't wish to do it after my death, either… I never belonged there. Finally I'm going to be executed, no matter the name… But at least, they don't send me back._

The redguard woman walked toward the choping block, where the convicts were waiting in a half-circle. The young girl followed her, and then stood between Ulfric and Ralof.

 _The two mountains, and the gravel. But soon they'll also be just small gravels in the frozen soil._

General Tullius left his position, and walked with measured strides directly in front of the rebel leader.

– Ulfric Stormcloak! – he began to give a speech in his scratched, condescending voice. – Some here, in Helgen call you a hero. But a hero doesn't use a power like The Voice to murder his king and usurp his throne.

Ulfric responded with muffled, deep grunts, he hadn't been able to give a sensible answer beause of the thick tissue that was covering his mouth.

– You started this war, plunged Skyrim into chaos – the General continued aloud –, and now, the Empire is going to put you down, and restore the peace!

 _So, this man put the famous Torygg to death. I heard about it, although nobody mentioned, how he did exactly. What could be this „Voice"? Is that why Ulfric mouth is bandaged?_

The sun seemed to come out from behind the snowy mountains, and a small sunbeam gleamed up on the edge of the black-masked executioner's ax, who was waiting near the block. Next to him, there was an Arkay priestess dressed up in a yellow monk's habit.

 _Their generousity is truly limitless, that they brought her here to us…_

The cool light of the morning slowly flodded the square. The crowd gathered around them, and excitedly watched the event. The girl thought for a moment to wonder, how many public executions they have they been witnessing recently.

From the thinning cloud-blanket, suddenly heard up a strange, eerie roar, and the gentle breeze slapped the young face.

– What was that? – asked the soldier, who read the prisoner's death list. The girl tore her gaze from the sky, and looked at him. It seemed, her mind hadn't gone insane of the winds of death. Something really shouted in the distance.

– It's nothing. Carry on! – commanded Tullius, and walked back to his former position.

– Yes, General Tullius! – saluted the redguard captain, and turned to the priestess of Arkay. – Give them their last rites!

The yellow hooded woman nodded, then stepped forward, and raised her hands protectively in the air.

– As we commend your souls to Aetherius, blessings of the Eight Divines upon you, for you are the salt and earth on Nirn, our beloved…

– For the love of Talos, shut up, and let's get this over with! – interrupted angrily a red-haired Stormcloak convict, while he was leaving the semi-circle, and walking to the scaffold.

– As you wish – said the priestess, and let her hands down.

– Come on! I haven't got all morning!

The imperial captain stepped behind the prisoner, and pushed his neck onto the block with her sole. The executioner grabbed his great ax, and positioned to be ready.

– My ancestors are smiling at me, imperials! Can you say the same? – the rebel asked his question with pride, to which no reply has been received. The headsman with a practiced move cut off the head of neck, which fell into the basket in front of the block. The shaking body slid off to the ground, and the splashing blood from the neck painted red everything around it.

– You imperial bastards! – A rebel woman cried out in pain.

– Justice!

– Death to the Stormcloaks! – A few members of the audience shook their fists. The girl took a deep breath and closed her red-brown eyes.

– As fearless in death, as he was in life. – Ralof murmured sadly.

– Next! The wood elf! – ordered the captain aloud, and she pointed her finger at Luna. The girl looked up.

 _Oh, me…_

The mysterious roar could be heard again. But now from much closer, bringing with itself a strong wind gust that swept though the snorting crowd.

– There it is again! – The soldier began to watch the skies, the list already disappeared from his hands. – Did you hear that?

– I said, next prisoner! – ordered angrily the redguard.

– To the block, prisoner! – The soldier turned to the young girl, his voice was barely audible. – Nice and easy.

 _Now it's my time._

She took another deep breath, and started to walking with slow and measured steps toward the blood-soaked scaffold. Her moving was still lightsome and graceful, even in he shadow of death. The old rags that were hanging from her body could not conceal her noble nature. But her trembling knees was noticed by no one, but her. The time has slowed down. Despite the fact that she yearned for death, as she'd yearn for a refreshing oasis among the hot sand dunes, now, that the time has arrived, the sun began to shine more beautifully on the sky for a moment.

 _No. I don't belong here. Not anymore. This is the end of the cruelty, the persecution, the humiliation, and the grief… Oh, I wish I could cross the mighty gate of Sovngarde, wish I could see them again… I don't know where my kind go to, but I wouldn't like to spend the rest of my otherwordly days in the companion of my „fellow" elves… I've never been one of them._

Only this worried her. Where she enters, there will be no way back. She'll live there an endless life.

 _But I have to go from here._

Her way to the chopping block seemed now longer, even more, than the trip she made away from home. These are the final moments of her life. The sweet, fresh air may fill her lungs for a last time. She may feel the warmth of the sun on her ice frozen skin for a last time. For a last time, her lightweight feet may touch the soil under them, until her body unite with it.

The silence was almost suffocating, when she reached the red scaffold. At first, the girl looked at the black-masked executioner, and then turned his expressionless face towards the imperial nord soldier, who had almost recognized her. She look straight into his disheveled eyes, as she slowly knelt into the accumulated blood pool at her feet, and then, she bowed her head gently on the soaked chopping block, making sure, that her neck is in the right place. The smell was nauseating, the severed head was still resting beside her in the basket.

 _My head joins him soon. Gods, give me strength, and excuse me for everything…_

 _What a nice neck… It's a shame_ – thought Ralof.

 _She's not even guilty for anything. Therefore I'll burn in the depths of Oblivion…_ – blamed himself the soldier.

Luna felt all eyes pointing at her back, as she was turned to the headsman, and waiting for her fate. The man first touched her gently the with razor-sharp ax on the neck, then swung it up in the air, when with all the pain on her face, the young girl smiled at him with her chapped lips, and winked.

 _What the… What're you doing?!_ – he thouht in shock. And when, he would strack, suddenly gale force winds started to blow, and a huge, spiky black beast landed on the top of the fort behind the executioner. Its arrival shook the ground under their feet; the headsman lost his balance, and fell off.

 _Oh, gods…_

– What in Oblivion is that? – exclaimed General Tullius.

– Sentries! What do you see? – asked the captain.

– It's in the clouds! – the men cried in horror.

– Dragon!

The crowd began to scream franctically, and trampled each other to death, while everyone was sprintig towards his own house. The great beast's eyes glowed red, when it shook the area once again with a powerful shout; the sound almost could be seen flowing in he air. The blue sky has became invaded by dark, billowing clouds, and fiery meteor-shower rained down on the village, one of them found the executioner at the head. It killed him instantly. The thatched houses were catched by wild flames, and the fortifications began to slowly collapse. The air became heated up at once.

– Don't just stand there! Kill that thing! – The General shouted furiously. – Guards, get the townspeople to safety!

The girl didn't move an inch from the block. Suddenly, she couldn't decide, whether this is the afterlife, or she survived.

 _The dragons have long since died out, this can not be real. I am certainly dead. This is a great executioner, he had done his job very well. I didn't feel anything. But is this world I deserve? Here do I have to live forever? And why are they fleeing behind me? We are deads, we can not die again. What is the sense of the running?_

Someone caught her narrow shoulders, and shook her roughly.

– Hey, wood elf! Get up! – urged Ralof to flee with him.

 _The blond Stormcloak? What is he doing here? His place is in Sovngarde, isn't it? Oh, gods, no… Am I alive…?_

– No… Leave me be… – Luna tried to push him away, while the salty tears flooded her bloody face once again.

– Come on! The gods won't give us another chance! – shouted the nord, and despite the protests of the girl, he took her in his arms, and ran into the fortress, where the other rebels were hiding with Ulfric. They locked the gate behind the last two, when they got inside.

On the ground, the wounded Stormcloaks were laying scattered, hunched in pain. Only some of them were intact, including Ralof, who put down Luna to her feet, pulled out a dagger, and cut the rope, that were tightening the thin wrists of hers.

– Jarl Ulfric! – he turned then to their leader, who was already unbound as well, and stood next to the closed gate of the fort. – What is that thin? Could the legends be true?

The jarl replied gravely in his deep, orotund voice:

– Legends don't burn down villages. We need to move! Now!

Ralof looked back, straight at Luna.

– Up to the tower! Let's go!

She did not want to believe, that all this were happening. She was alive, and and a dragon was hanging around outside the stonewalls. The elf hesitated.

 _Did he ask anyway, that do I want to escape? Why would I? I have nothing left it would be worth to running for._

– Get moving! Don't be fool! I follow you!

 _Although, all is not lost that is delayed. Maybe after all this is the decision of the gods_ – she though, and then obeyed; she ran upwards the spiral staircase, what leaded to the tower. Ralof was behind her, and another rebel squatted in front of her, just slightly higher up.

– We just need to move some of these rocks to clear the way! – he said, when Luna reached. But then something broke into trough the massive wall.

– Watch out!

– The dragon looked into the tower, and began to vomit fire out loud. After that, when it saw the soldier was burnt, it flew away. Ralof and the girl came out of the shelter, and hurried to the collapsed stone wall. The strong wind slammed into the tower the smell of smoke violently.

– See the inn on the other side? – he pointed his finger at a collapsed, fuming house. – Jump trough the roof, and keep going!

Luna grimaced anxiously.

– Go! We'll follow, when we can! – Ralof raised his voice, and then ran down the stairs, leaving the girl alone. She looked down to the gaping abyss at the feet of hers. The wind pulled her white-blonde hair out of the bun, so now, a long braid were flapping around her waist.

 _I guess the will of the gods will become clear now_ – she thought, then took a deep breath, and threw herself out of the tower.

The soldiers of the Empire sweated blood, while they were trying to catch the beast with their arrows, that was circling high above them.

– What in the Eight Divines is this thing?

– How in Oblivion do we kill this thing?

– It's still coming! Keep your eyes on it!

– By Ysmir, nothing kills it!

On the roads, more and more corpses and burning debris accumulated. They have had no chance to save the village.

– Get up, papa, get up! – begged a crying little boy for his father.

– Get off the road, boy! – exclaimed an old man.

– Go, my little cub! Run for your life, and make your miserable father proud! – whimpered the wounded man ont he ground. The child grabbed his arm for a last time, his eyes filled with tears.

– Haming! You need to go get over here! Now! That a boy! You're doing great. – said Hadvar, the nord soldier, who read out the names of the prisoners a few hours ago. But already it seemed to him as if a thousand years have passed since.

– Torolf! – he called the child's father, but then the dragon landed next to him, and burned the suffering man with its fiery breath. – Gods… Everyone get back!

The huge beast took off again, when Hadvar saw an ash-blonde girl in bloody rags, who just snaked out of the blazing inn behind him.

 _By the Eight… She survived._

The man hurried to her, and drew his sword.

– Still alive, prisoner? Keep close to me, if you want to stay that way! – he said, and then turned to the old man and the child, who where hiding in the dugout. – Gunnar, take care of the boy! I have to find General Tullius, and join their defense.

The old man nodded.

– Gods guide you, Hadvar!

The nord soldier started to walk ahead, while he was ready for the attack. Luna went after him. Among the coaly carcasses and remains of the collapsed houses she saw a stone wall.

– Stay close to the wall! – Hadvar shouted, when the dragon threw itself on the top, and scorched the soldiers who were fighting against it. Its great wings were so close to Luna, she could touch them, while they were keeping close tightly to the stones, and waiting for the beast to disappear above them. When this was done, without noticing them, the soldier continued the run, and called Luna.

– Quickly! Follow me!

– Hadvar! Into the keep, soldier, we're leaving! – he heard the voice from the distance, that belonged to the General.

– Yes, sir!

 _And I take the girl with me, because she's innocent._

They began running madly, towards the tower of the fort, that rose in the distance, while the other soldiers were fighting with the dragon behind them. Luna kicked the rolling, burnt smelling corpses out of her way.

 _This is my answer, imperials…_

When they reached the large square, where were the gates of the fortress, a Stormcloak warrior crossed them, who just jumped over a crumbling wall.

– Ralof! You damned traitor! Out of my way! – Hadvar bellowed.

– We're escaping Hadvar! – Ralof scoffed. – You're not stoping us this time!

The girl stepped away from Hadvar imperceptibly, and her eyes were darting back and forth between the two nords.

– Fine! I hope that dragon takes you all to Sovngarde! – shouted Hadvar, and started tor un toward the distant entrace of the fort. – With me, prisoner! Let's go! – he called the girl, however, Ralof had other plans.

– Come with me! Into the keep! – he grabbed the confused Luna's arm, and kicked he iron-bound gates.

 _After all, Hadvar wanted to protect me, but he serves the Empire, and he was that, who sent me under the blade of the headsman's ax. And sooner or later he would figured out, who I am anyway._

– Hin sil fen nahkip bahloki – boomed the great, night-black dragon.

* * *

 **Translation:**

 _ **Reg Dovah**_ – _**Lady Dragon**_

 _ **Hin sil fen nahkip bahloki**_ – _**Your soul will feed (my) hunger**_


End file.
